


slipping 'till you let me drown

by taejinyo



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: Crossdressing, Exhibitionism, Light Dom/sub, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 22:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14861864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taejinyo/pseuds/taejinyo
Summary: zhengting's a tease, and sometimes yanjun likes making sure everyone else knows who he belongs to.





	slipping 'till you let me drown

“zhengting,” yanjun says, in a tone so ice-hot zhengting can feel the chill burn across his skin. he’s crossing dangerous ground here, and he knows it, but zhengting’s always been fond of living close to the edge.

 

except this isn’t just close to the edge, it’s stumbling and teetering over the cliff face first.

 

“yes, yanjun,” zhengting responds, smile saccharinely sweet. he crosses his legs and leans back casually, like the movement doesn’t tug his tennis skirt higher up his thighs. “is something wrong?”

 

zhengting watches yanjun clench his teeth, jaw tensing almost imperceptibly. he can almost hear yanjun counting backwards in his head, trying to calm himself done. when he finally speaks, it sounds deceptively light, and if it wasn’t for the way yanjun is gripping the corner of the table so tightly his knuckles are blanched white, zhengting might even believe he’s not about to burst. “did i say you could wear that today?”

 

zhengting fingers the hem of his skirt, pouting. “you don’t like it?” he lifts it up just a touch too long, before the fabric drops and settles back on his skin.

 

yanjun _hisses_.

 

and, well, it’s not like zhengting doesn’t know exactly why yanjun is upset. here they are, sitting in the middle of  the food court, and criss-crossing their way up his calves are zhengting’s favourite pair of fishnets, coming to a stop a little above his knee and before they meet the edge of his checkered red tennis skirt. if zhengting glances around him, he knows he’ll find at least seven pairs of eyes trained on him, raking across his body like red hot coals.

 

yanjun sees them too.

 

zhengting shivers under yanjun’s intensity, but it’s not enough, not yet. slowly, deliberately, making sure yanjun is watching, zhengting lifts one hand off the table and. trails his fingers down, feathering light touches over his torso, down his hip and across his thigh, until he reaches the tight black band oh his stockings. he slides his index finger underneath it, raising it up and then releasing it with a crisp _snap_. the sound echoes much louder than it has any right to in the crowded food court of a shopping mall.

 

and, as the elastic snaps against zhengting’s skin, so does yanjun, something deep in his self-control shattering. his hand darts out faster than zhengting can even track, and then his fingertips are curled around his jaw, crushing into his face with a bruising strength. “you filthy slut,” yanjun says, and it’s almost fond underneath the steel in his voice. “open up.”

 

zhengting’s mouth drops open like it’s second nature, right before yanjun takes his other hand and shoves two fingers in zhengting’s mouth. obediently, zhengting hollows his cheeks and _sucks,_ savouring the weight of yanjun’s fingers against his tongue.

 

“you like it when they look at you, don’t you,” yanjun murmurs, as he adds a third finger. zhengting works his tongue around the intrusions, spit dripping from his lips. “let them look at this, then, see who you belong to,” he continues darkly, possessively.

 

zhengting can’t help it; he moans long and low and louder than he’d anticipated. he flushes, tips of his ears rushing with blood. if people hadn’t been looking at him before, they definitely are now. he tries to imagine what this looks like from the outside, yanjun choking zhengting with his fingers as zhengting gasps and keens and _whines_ like he wants more, like he needs more. yanjun tightens his hold around zhengting’s jaw and turns his head roughly to the left, never removing his fingers from his mouth. “you see that man,” yanjun whispers, “he’s been watching you the longest. since you walked in here and started giving everyone a show.”

 

by now, zhengting is painfully hard, arousal tenting the folds of his skirt. yanjun jerks his head roughly to the other side so that he’s staring at someone else. “this one just started looking at you,” yanjun says, “but he looks like he wants to devour you. fifty bucks says he’ll go home and get off on this for a solid week.”

 

“yanjun,” zhengting tries to breathe out, voice muffled. “yanjun, yanjun, _yanjun.”_ he recites the other boy’s name like it’s a prayer, and yanjun seems to take pity on him.

 

“oh, babe,” he says. “do you want to come?”

 

_yes,_ zhengting nods furiously. _please_ , he begs shamelessly with his eyes. yanjun crooks his index finger, presses it down against the base of zhengting’s throat. zhengting can feel his gag reflex kicking in, but he forces it back, letting yanjun leisurely explore the crevasses of his mouth. then yanjun drags his fingers out of zhengting’s mouth, nails catching on the inside of his lips. a string of saliva stretches between them, slick and filthy.

 

“go to the bathroom,” yanjun orders. “i’ll meet you there.”

 

zhengting teeters to his feet, trying to catch his balance again as he attempts to shield his arousal with his hands. he feels like a blaring red target as he gathers all the confidence remaining in his body and strides as confidently across the room as he can while he sways from side to side. he feels hungry, watchful gazes assaulting him from every direction, but one burns deliciously red against the nape of his neck.

 

_yanjun_.

 

zhengting makes it to the bathroom after what feels like an eternity. he clatters into an open stall and throws his head back against the wall, eyelids squeezed together tightly, as he palms himself through his skirt. distantly, he hears the door to the bathroom open and swing closed. the stutters of footsteps draw closer to zhengting’s stall, and zhengting doesn’t even open his eyes as he lets out a shameless moan.

 

“look at you,” yanjun says admiringly. “you’re just ready to take it from anyone, aren’t you.”

 

“no, please,” zhengting whimpers. “you, i want you, it has to be you.”

 

he hears yanjun curse underneath his breath, and then yanjun says, a little desperately, “turn around, babe.”

 

zhengting obeys, bracing himself against the stall with his forearms. he feels the familiar heat of yanjun settle in behind him, listens for the telltale click of a button popping open. “spread your legs a little,” yanjun tells him.

 

yanjun pushes his hand in between zhengting’s thighs, still covered in spit from just earlier. he wipes it against the sensitive skin of zhengting’s thighs. then he pulls his cock out of his boxers and slides it in between zhengting’s thighs in one swift move.

 

“tighten up,” yanjun commands, and zhengting doesn’t even hesitate, pushing the flesh of his legs together, snug against yanjun’s cock. dropping his hands on zhengting’s hips, yanjun thrusts forward with a violent thrill. zhengting can feel the drag of yanjun’s cock against the underside of his own clothed cock, rubbing against his perineum with every roll of their hips.

 

zhengting’s so gone, so frenzied with heat, that he can’t control his voice anymore, his groans rising in volume with every motion. “shut _up_ ,” yanjun grits his teeth behind him. “only i’m allowed to hear you like this.” he slithers his fingers back to zhengting’s face, hooking them on his lower lip, his nails scratching on the inner wall of zhengting’s cheek. he fucks his fingers into zhengting’s mouth with the same fever he fucks between zhengting’s thighs, skin slapping against skin in a cacophony of sweat and spit and slick. yanjun’s hips start stuttering, breaking up the rhythm as he gets closer and closer to orgasm. he leans forward to nip at zhengting’s earlobe, tugging gently at the earring dangling from it. “ _come,”_ he orders in a breathy whisper, and so zhengting does, orgasm tearing out from him with a broken cry. his briefs are a mess under his skirt, gross and sticky and wet, but yanjun doesn’t even give him a break before he pulls him off off his cock and nudges him to the ground. zhengting’s knees hit the cold floor with a sharp thud, but he barely notices. he takes the head of yanjun’s cock in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, until yanjun tangles his hand in zhengting’s hair and wrenches him to an abrupt stop, coming in zhengting’s open, waiting mouth.

 

yanjun doesn’t even have to say anything before zhengting is swallowing the bitter taste down his throat, lapping up the last drops on yanjun’s skin with a lazy concentration. yanjun smiles down at him, finally gentle, running his fingers through zhengting’s hair with a kindness that he only lets show when zhengting’s been good for him.

 

“so, did you learn anything today, babe,” he asks in a teasing lilt.

 

zhengting tilts his head to the side, licking his lips innocently as he looks up at yanjun from where’s he’s still standing on his knees, still loosely holding yanjun’s flaccid cock in one hand.

 

“i don’t know,” he says, kissing yanjun’s cock softly. “i guess we’ll just have to find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by a prompt from @yuehuas on twt ! come hang out with me [@zhngzyi](https://twitter.com/zhngzyi)


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